


Kiss Me

by Abbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drabble Collection, F/M, Kissing, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, now with more olicity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kiss is just a kiss, except when it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Now or Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just once, she had to just once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by burningletter- "Goodbye kiss." Oliver/Felicity

Felicity nervously twisted her fingers together, the knot in her stomach drawing tighter as she psyched herself up for the final step in her plan.

Her car was packed, the instruction and assistance program was ready on the foundry computers for next boot-up, and all of her final bills and notices had been taken care of hours ago. It was time to go; now or never.

If she waited any longer, someone was going to realize what she was doing.

There was just one part of her plan left to go, the one part that was truly just selfish, unnecessary wish fulfillment. She just… _needed_ this, needed to settle that last “what if” before she drove off into the sunset, literally, and away from Starling City forever.

She glanced up from her monitors, away from the document labeled “Goodbye” in the middle of the desktop, to see that Oliver was still calmly, quietly cleaning the pieces of his bow on the weapons bench. Sucking in a long, quiet breath, she began the process of shutting down her computers.

Minutes later, she rose from her chair and pulled her purse over her arm, stepping from behind her desk with lowered eyes.

"Hey," Oliver said. Felicity’s gaze pulled up to see him half turned towards her, rag in hand. "Heading home?"

Felicity made her lips curve into the shape of a smile, nervously reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Slow night, so I thought I’d head out early this time.”

None of those words were lies. But they felt like them.

Pulling in another deep breath, Felicity stepped forward. “Oliver…”

He cocked his head slightly to one side, brow quirking up as he set down his cleaning rag and turned to give her his full attention. “What’s up?”

Feeling a surge of bravery, she crossed the distance between them, her heart aching a little when he didn’t step away, not even when she crossed into his personal space. He just looked down at her in concern and mild confusion.

Felicity looked up at him, studying his face. His blue eyes and expressive brow, the chiseled stubbled jaw she’d never admit to having dreamed about. His nose, clearly broken more than once, but no less strong. His mouth, so often a hard grim line, now soft, lips parting as she stared and committed him to memory.

Smiling truly this time, Felicity reached up and laid her hand on his cheek, the palm sliding down to cup his jaw, the rasp of his whiskers thrilling and strange against the pads of her fingers. His brows drew together in deepening confusion, but he never moved away.

Smile broadening, she said, “You’re a good man, Oliver Queen.”

His confusion didn’t lessen, but he did smile, a wry, soft quirk at the corner of his mouth. “I thought that line was supposed to end with ‘Charlie Brown.’”

Felicity rolled her eyes and minutely shook her head, then held his gaze. “I mean it, Oliver. You doubt a lot of things, but you should never doubt that.”

His smile slowly vanished, his eyes studying the sincerity in her face and filling with a slow, warm gratitude. His hand reached up and covered hers, and he spoke very softly. “Thank you, Felicity.”

She nodded, and bit her lip.

Now or never.

Inhaling sharply, she brought her other hand up to curve over his shoulder and stood on her toes, the closeness between them bringing her front against his as she pressed her mouth to his.

It was brief, the slightest pressure, and he pulled back in surprise, their lips parting on a quickly drawn breath. “Felicity.”

She smiled, the tip of his nose brushing hers as she ducked her chin.

This was the end.

She lowered herself onto her heels and drew her hands from him, uncomfortable heat in her cheeks even as she smiled at his baffled stare. Stepping back, she laughed nervously, tucking her hair back again. Voice thick, she said. “Sorry. I just—I’m going to go now.”

_None of these words were lies_.

She spun on her heel and walked quickly toward the stairs, heart pounding and shoulders tightening with dread, every moment tense as she waited for him to call her name, to catch her arm, to say something, anything—she hoped he did, hoped he didn’t.

She clattered up the steps with hurried noise, and these were the only echoes as she reached the landing.

She put her hand on the door, hesitated half a breath, turned the knob, pushed—

and stepped alone and free out into the growing summer gloom.

She never looked back.


	2. A Little Less Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things should be simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by notababoonbrandishingastick (Ferggirl) "Up against a wall kiss." Felicity/Tommy

Tommy’s back hit the wall hard, but he was too distracted by the sensation of Felicity’s body stretching up long against his front, cloth sliding over curves against hard planes, to notice or care.

She pressed teasingly soft, open-mouth kisses up his neck to his jawline, and he buried one hand in her hair, tumbling and curling softly still from the party, as his other hand traced down the inward curve of her spine, his breath catching to feel so much smooth, bare skin before he reached the satin line of her dress.

"Felicity," he breathed, voice low and rough as her teeth nipped just under his chin. "You sure about this?"

Her lips curled in a smirk against his skin, and she hummed, the vibrations rattling him straight to the core. He swore and gripped hard at her hip, fingertips pressing against the give of her flesh under the thin cloth.

Felicity pulled away from his throat, shoulders leaning back so she could look him in the eye and still maintain as much physical contact as possible. “Are _you_ sure?” Her eyebrows popped up, mouth still smirking. “Because I, for one, am looking very forward to something being, just for once… uncomplicated.”

She slowly licked at her lower lip, her gaze dropping from his to his mouth. It sent a wave of heat through him straight down, and Tommy swallowed. “Uncomplicated. I can do that. I was good at that for a very long time—”

Felicity laughed and wound her arms behind his neck, bringing their faces even and their mouths a breath apart, lips brushing as she fondly said, ”Tommy, stop talking.”

He breathed, “Yes, ma’am,” and pressed his mouth to hers, softly, intently exploring, learning the fit of her lips between his.

She made an impatient noise in her throat, her fingers sliding into his hair and gently scoring his scalp as she parted her lips, the tip of her tongue a question against his upper lip.

Smiling, he granted permission, tilting his head further to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands roaming the expanse of her back, fingertips tracing the lines of her shoulder blades, ticking down her spine.

There was nothing complicated at all about this.


	3. Your Attention, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants her to pay close attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by sophieingelaere "What about a kiss on the butt? :)" Felicity/Tommy
> 
> There was really only ever one way this was going to go.

Felicity lay on her stomach atop the comforter, her hair in a messy bun at the crown of her head and glasses sliding down her nose as she tapped away at her tablet, idly correcting some buggy code on a program she hoped to implement in the foundry’s security network by next week.

"Felicity," Tommy wheedled behind her. He lay on his side in nothing but his dark blue pinstriped pajama bottoms, hair a mess from scrubbing his fingers through it. "Pay attention to me."

Felicity’s lips quirked in helpless amusement, but she snorted, eyes never leaving the screen. “Give me five minutes to finish up here and we can vie for MarioKart 64 dominance.”

"Felicity…" he sighed, voice no longer whining, now fond and mischievous. He ran his hand up her bare calf, over the back of her knee to her thigh, enjoying the sight of her in nothing but purple cotton panties and one of his v-neck tee shirts. "That’s really not what I had in mind."

She rolled her eyes, wondering just what kind of mood he’d gotten himself into tonight. The next thing to come out of his mouth could be a proposition that they do a homemade music video or that they get dressed up and go clubbing, or anything in between. “And what exactly _did_ you have in mind?”

Tommy leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her ass, the fingers on her thigh slowly kneading upward and inward.

Felicity felt the snap of the elastic edge of her underwear as he took it in his teeth and then let it go, and she gasped, setting her tablet aside and looking at him over her shoulder. _"Oh_.”

He glanced up at her from under his dark fringe of lashes, a wolfish grin curling on his mouth. “Yes, _oh_. And then _oh_ again, and again, and my name…”

Felicity tugged her lower lip between her teeth, pupils dilating as he watched her, hungrily licking his lips. Grinning again, he took hold of her hips and slowly rolled her over, shuffling along the large mattress until he lay between her legs.

He reached up and hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties, and she gasped, unexpected anticipation thrilling straight through her. “Tommy…”

"Yes," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Just like that."


	4. Bad Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something changes, and then something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by consulting-kitkat "accidental nose bump that turns into a first kiss (≧ω≦) or a boop kiss haha." Felicity/Tommy

Tommy sat on the edge of the raised cement platform of Verdant’s loading dock, feet dangling a few inches above the blacktop and a beer from his fingers as he stared out into the summer dim of the parking lot.

He heard the creak of the door opening and the clang of it falling shut, and the scrape of grit behind him, but didn’t turn. It would be only one of four people, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be any of them.

"Tommy? What’re you doing out here?"

Felicity, then. Tommy sighed, shoulders loosening a little. If it had to be anyone, he was glad it was her. He lifted his barely-touched beer and sloshed the bottle a little demonstratively. “Drowning my sorrows like a lonely shit. You heading home for the night?”

He listened to her step closer, and put the bottle to his lips for a sip. Slowly, she lowered herself to sit beside him, and he glanced at her in mild surprise.

She held her head on one side and eyed him speculatively over her glasses, fingers plucking at her skirt to arrange it evenly between the backs of her thighs and the rough concrete. “I was, but you look like maybe you could use a friend. What’s going on?”

He looked at her, and she looked back, clearly content to keep this up until he broke or left, whichever came first. Sighing, he offered her a tight smile. “Laurel and I are through.”

Her eyebrows popped high, lips parting. “Why?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and dropping his chin. “You sure don’t beat around the bush, same as always.”

She shrugged, unbothered. “It’s just… you guys were really cute together. You seemed like you worked.”

He exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. “We did. Until we didn’t. I got in my own way, as usual.” He fell quiet, and she scooted closer, their thighs lining up as she nudged his shoulder with hers. Smiling wryly, he glanced at her sidelong. “Laurel and I fit really well. We love each other, and we do well together. But it’s not enough, you know?”

Frowning, she ran her eyes over his face, lips twitching in sympathy. “Yeah. I think I do.” She surprised him again by reaching an arm around his shoulders and leaning her head into his chest in a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

He hesitated only a moment before dropping his chin on the top of her head and squeezing his arm around her ribs. “Me, too. Thanks, Felicity.”

She held on for a moment longer, and he found himself incredibly grateful; there’d always been too little affection in his life—and in hers too, he knew. “Any time. Except, you know, at really awkward and impossible times, but you know what I mean.”

He laughed, and her head came up, arm pulling a little away. Awkwardly, he turned to look at her before she’d moved away and their noses bumped, and they both laughed, she momentarily leaning her forehead against his as her cheeks lit up.

He wouldn’t later know why, wouldn’t be able to pin the action on any single thing, or even a list of them. It was like a moment, a crystallized, Hollywood-movie moment in time opened in his chest as he watched her cheeks blush and her lips slowly settle into a soft, amused curl.

It was a dumb move, completely out of nowhere, and the worst timing in the world.

But still he leaned across the slim distance between them, setting his beer aside to reach up and cup her face as he tilted his head and slanted his mouth over hers, a gentle, experimental press and slide of lips.

She gasped and pulled back from his hand, arms disentangling as she stared at him with wide eyes and a startled flush. “Tommy—”

"Felicity, I’m sorry, I—" he cringed as they talked over each other, already regretting the kiss—not because it was her, but because this was anything but the right time, if there would ever be a time for them at all.

"I should go," she said adamantly, pushing off of the platform and landing a little wobbly on her heels.

He was still opening his mouth without words to say when she hurried away across the parking lot.


	5. Swing and a Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity misses her target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Hari (Redtoes) "Accidental kiss" Oliver/Felicity

Not that Felicity had spent an _i_ _nordinate_ amount of time imagining what a possible first kiss with Oliver might be like, or how it might happen—or kissing Oliver at all, _honestly_ —but this… was still never how she would have thought that would go down.

There was no life-and-death circumstance, no grand, knock-down-drag-out argument spiraling into unresolved sexual tension. It wasn’t a bad action movie cliche of throwing off bad guys with a fakeout makeout.

Felicity had accompanied Oliver as his plus one to a corporate gala, with no ulterior motive, for once. It was simply putting in a necessary appearance for the returned-triumphant Queen family scion and QC CEO. With Isabel still only ousted less than a year ago, the gladhanding and networking were more important than ever for Oliver to put in the effort for.

And since she’d reluctantly returned to his side as his trusted EA, Felicity found herself frequently propping up his thinning patience at these events.

Tonight’s, in Central City at Wayne Enterprises’ newly opened branch, had dragged on unexpectedly long—and gone not entirely unpleasantly.

Felicity had found herself unexpectedly popular on the dance floor, and with a few glasses of champagne and a grateful escape from Oliver’s weary grumping, she’d actually had a pretty good time. And she’d looked damn fabulous, in a knee-length gold satin dress with black lace overlay.

The tall, ankle-strapped black heels, however, had begun to worse than pinch by the time midnight rolled around and the belles of the ball began turning to pumpkins.

Once she and Oliver had slid into the back of the town car that would chauffeur them back the hour and a half to Starling, Felicity had freed her feet with a groan. She’d had an unexpected amount of fun, but she was now very tired.

Sighing, she slumped over to lean her head on Oliver’s shoulder, absently hoping her makeup didn’t smudge his white shirt, as he’d discarded his jacket as quickly as she’d tossed her shoes. She had to admit the suspenders over the tucked-in, crisp white shirt were a good look for her literal partner in crime.

"I can’t believe I’m saying this, Oliver, but thanks for making me come to this with you. I actually had a good time."

Oliver huffed a soft chuckle. “I noticed, even if I can’t believe you abandoned me to dance with Bruce Wayne. Traitor.”

She rolled her eyes and snorted, shifting up to prop her chin on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m the assistant, usually I’m expensively dressed wallpaper at these things. It was nice to be noticed for once.” She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes with a soft whimper. “Even if I definitely did not expect to be noticed so _many_ times.”

It was Oliver’s turn to snort, a fond smile curving his lips in profile. “Of course you were noticed, Felicity. You looked wonderful tonight.”

She smiled brightly and perked up a little, pleased and surprised by the compliment. “Wow, thank you. That was unexpectedly sweet of you.”

He laughed again. “I can be sweet. Sometimes.”

Felicity grinned. “True. _Sometimes_.”

Following a fond impulse, she pressed down against the seat to leverage herself up an inch or two, aiming a kiss of appreciation at his cheek.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Oliver turned his head to look at her, and her lips landed amiss of her target—falling right on the corner of his mouth, more center than to the side.

It was a moment’s startled press, her puckered lips against his, soft and slightly parted, damp from recent wetting—and it sent an unexpected jolt of electricity straight down the center of her, just as she’d always thought kissing Oliver might—but surprisingly unwelcome when that kiss was entirely accidental.

"Oh," she breathed, freezing in mild panic centimeters from his face. She was close enough to watch his lashes flutter as he blinked rapidly in surprise, to see his eyes drop to her mouth, then raise back to hers.

Felicity flushed, suddenly regaining control of herself and settling back—adding a few inches more space between them than had previously so comfortably existed. “Uh, sorry. I was aiming for your cheek, wow, that was like CW high school drama awkward, I am _super_ sorry. We, uh—we can totally pretend that didn’t happen.”

She cringed as she violently bit off the word vomit flowing from her mouth, chin jerking to the side in embarrassment.

"Felicity," Oliver said, softly and with a hint of fond amusement. His fingers lightly brushed the back of her hand on the seat between them. "Don’t worry about it."

"Right," she nodded firmly, bravely lifting her gaze to his.

The shadows of the car shaded him gently, indistinctly, but there was an undeniable curl to his lips as he held her gaze and said, “It was fine.”


	6. Dream a Little Dream (Of Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, Sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by burningletter-, "Good morning kiss" Felicity/Tommy

Felicity drifted up from sleep slowly, in pieces.

First she felt the heaviness of her limbs, nestled in thick, soft sheets and a warm comforter, the drag of her overlarge tee shirt and sleep shorts against her skin. Then, more gradually, she became aware of the slow, steady puffs of air against her forehead, the weight of an arm nestled in the dip of her waist, and the radiating warmth close from head to toe.

Her brow twitched, consciousness bringing disorientation and confusion, lips pulling down in a little frown. Felicity’s lashes fluttered, her eyes slowly focusing on the shapes in front her.

Slowly, so slowly, the sight resolved into a male chest, clad in a white tank shirt, dark chest hair peeking up at the neckline as the chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm. She blinked slowly, tension slowly beginning to climb up her spine as she muddledly pushed back against her sleep-shrouded brain for memories of last night—of why there was a man in her bed.

And who the man was.

_Simple solution, Smoak. Look up_.

Felicity followed her own sensible advice and shifted her cheek against the sheet, tilting her head back to take in—Tommy Merlyn.

She blinked, brows curving in and up as she took him in; lips softly parted, a little dry, the slightest hint of morning stubble darkening his jaw, brow smooth and lashes thick, dark crescents on his cheekbones. The arm that wasn’t propped on her waist and draped along the small of her back was tucked up under his head, disappearing beneath the pillows.

Pillows that _weren’t_ hers.

And it hit her all at once that Tommy wasn’t in _her_ bed; she was in his.

_Oh. Shit._

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in here. She was crashing at Tommy’s while her townhome was being fumigated. She’d gotten in kind of late last night at the end of a long, generally frustrating day. Tommy’s bedroom door had already been closed, so she’d assumed he was asleep.

She’d changed into pajamas, brushed her teeth and washed her face in the bathroom across the hall from the guest room she was using, and then gloriously stubbed her toe on a hall table on her way out.

The thump and muttered swearing had drawn Tommy out of his bedroom in pajama pants and a vest shirt to find Felicity on the floor in the dark, tears in her eyes.

He’d invited her into his bedroom to talk about what had gone so wrong with her day—he swore he hadn’t been asleep yet, but she wasn’t sure she believed him—and they’d sat against his headboard, venting annoyances for more than an hour.

Clearly, they’d managed to fall asleep in pretty much that very position.

Although they’d definitely shifted some in the night. Felicity realized quite abruptly that her left knee was tucked between Tommy’s, and gently eased it free, fire burning in her cheeks. She’d come in here last night to vent with a friend, and she was sure Tommy hadn’t signed up for pajama cuddling when he’d offered her his guest room for four days.

She valiantly squashed the part of her that reveled in the simple physical closeness and comfort, something she’d always felt a bit starved of and longed for in her few close relationships. However, she always worried her tactile neediness was off-putting, and strove to strike a wobbly balance.

She’d pretty clearly tipped onto the “too much” side of that line sometime in the night—nevermind the part of her that wouldn’t mind a little _more_ closeness, of a less platonic physical nature.

It’d been too damn long.

Swearing under her breath on that inappropriate thought, Felicity pulled her arms into her chest and experimentally wiggled backward a little, hoping to slip out of the bed without having to wake poor Tommy.

This backfired immediately.

Tommy’s arm twitched where it lay in the dip of her waist, her movement jogging at him as she scooted back a couple of inches on the mattress. With a sudden, muffled groan, his palm flattened against the small of her back and he hauled her back toward him, simultaneously rolling so that she was pulled into his warmth and his body half covered hers, one of his legs crossing over her knees and his torso snuggling against the length of her own body.

He nosed sleepily at her collarbone and she let out a little squeak, stiff beneath him and unsure what to do. Wake him? Embarrassing, _really_ embarrassing, but what else could she do? Try to go back to sleep?

Tommy’s hips shifted to settle more comfortably against her thigh and Felicity felt herself flush from head to toe. Yeah, no, going back to sleep was definitely _not_ an option.

Felicity lifted her hand, pushing back the edge of the bedcovers and tentatively tapping at Tommy’s bare shoulder, hoping to wake him gently. “Tommy.”

"Mmm," he hummed groggily, sounding anything but aware. His nose brushed against her neck, followed by a soft, sloppy press of lips to her shoulder.

Felicity sucked in a sharp breath and froze. _What_?

“ _Tommy_.”

"Mmmf," he murmured, kissing higher on her neck now. The hand that had been curled around her left side squeezed a little, and Felicity swallowed hard. Tommy shifted against her, shoulders lifting up to bring their faces even. His eyes were still closed. "Good morning."

And then he kissed her, right on the mouth.

It was a soft, lingering press, unbearably tender, his slightly dry lips enfolding her bottom one. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips before they parted from hers, the tip brushing her mouth and making her gasp, a curl of heat snaking down into her belly.

Her hands landed awkwardly on his shoulders, not pushing him away, just bracing there. “ _Tommy_. Wake _up_.”

She watched his brow furrow and his lashes flutter as he pulled away from her face. His eyes blinked open, clear and blue—confused, and startled. “Felicity?”

She didn’t know what she looked like, unexpected beneath him in his bed with a flush blazing up her neck into her face—and no doubt her hair a crazy, tangled mess. She winced as he leveraged himself onto his elbow, blinking rapidly as he glanced down at the position they were in.

"Uh."

"We fell asleep," she blurted awkwardly. "Last night, when we were talking. I’m—I’m really sorry."

Tommy glanced back at her face, wincing and slowly easing his weight off of her, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. “I—wha— _you_ _'re_ sorry? Felicity, I’m pretty sure I just sexually assaulted you in my sleep, why are _you_ apologizing?”

He slid a couple of inches away and sat up, propping his weight on one arm to look at her as he uncomfortably scrubbed his free hand back through his bed-tousled hair. Felicity sat up herself, wrinkling her nose both at the characterization of their little mishap as sexual assault—and at the thought that he looked _really_ good in the morning light, hair a mess and vest shirt riding up to reveal a slice of stomach above the blanket at his hips.

"Because—I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in here, I’m sorry, that was—really rude of me to inconvenience you like that, and you’ve already been so nice to me by letting me stay here instead of at some hotel with their creepy sheets and bathtubs—"

"Felicity." Tommy shot her a deadpan stare, and she inhaled.

"—and I really wouldn’t say you sexually assaulted me. I—really wouldn’t."

She cringed at herself and pushed her hair back from her face, quickly scooting to the edge of the mattress and throwing her legs over. She glanced back at Tommy apologetically.

"Okay," he drawled slowly, eyeing her with an unfamiliar expression. "So we’re… _not_ going to talk about how I just kissed you good morning?”

Felicity forced a little smile, and hoped it didn’t look as sad as the little pang that shot through her chest. “What’s to talk about? You were half-asleep and not expecting someone else to be in your bed. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me you were dreaming about. So. It’s no big deal.”

She nodded as if saying it could make it so, and stood, tugging her shirt into order as she stepped towards the door. “I should—go to my own room. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at breakfast.”

She made a quick escape, and Tommy was left staring, a little blown away, at the door she closed softly behind her.

"…But it _was_ you.”


	7. I'm Not Your Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tug-of-war is a shitty game to play with heartstrings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by sarcasticfina "kiss on the neck, felicity/tommy"

"Tommy," Felicity breathed, fingers tightening on the lapels of Tommy’s suit jacket. "What… what are you doing?"

Tommy’s nose dipped under her ear, nudging the dangling hoop hanging from her lobe. “I thought we were hiding from Oliver.”

"Um. Yes. We were— _are_ , we are. Because he is being a huge ass right now and I don’t feel like dealing with it anymore and you guys have been fighting for three days and _what are you doing_.”

He very slowly, very deliberately pressed his open mouth to the pulse in her throat, the slightest pressure. The skin of his lips moved off of her pulse, but only so far that she felt a chill of air on moisture as he licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed her skin. She inhaled sharply, tucking her bottom lip hard between her teeth as her lashes fluttered at the sensation.

"Something I’ve been wanting to for a while now," Tommy murmured into her ear. The hand at her hip squeezed slightly, his free hand raising to trail from her bare shoulder down to her elbow. "I have wondered…" he kissed the skin just beneath her ear—an incredibly sensitive spot, "what you taste like," another kiss, lower on her neck, mouth open, lips dragging, sucking, "for weeks."

"Tommy," she swallowed, not sure what words, for once, should follow his name. Her whole brain seemed to have narrowed its focus to the damp heat of his mouth on her neck, the tantalizing scrape of his teeth.

"And that," Tommy exhaled against her shoulder, "is what Oliver and I have been fighting about for three days."

"…What?" Felicity felt like her attention had been snapped back like a rubber band, and she craned her head to try and look Tommy in the face, forehead wrinkling in confusion and mouth tugging into a frown as her grip on his lapels shifted to push at his chest.

He raised his head, blue eyes boring into hers with utterly unrepentant heat. “You, Felicity. We’ve been fighting about you.”

She spent a few precious seconds trying to read his face, and then, brows snapping closer together angrily, she shoved at him. Tommy stumbled away with a surprised yelp, and Felicity spun on her heel and left him standing alone in the service hall they’d ducked into together.


	8. Good In Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loves it when she laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by ohemgeeitscoley "laughing while kissing" Felicity/Tommy

Tommy collapsed onto the mattress beside Felicity, licking his lips as she laughed breathily, back still arching into the sheets as a fluctuating grin pulled at her mouth. He smiled in reflection, eyes crinkling; he never could get enough of the times that she laughed as she came.

There was a lot of laughter when they were in bed together.

Felicity, giggling even now, sometimes took a while to come down from these highs.

This only ever served to turn Tommy on even more.

Purring his own amusement, he curled in close to her, bending over her face to pepper her mouth with kisses as she wound down to throaty chuckles. Her lips pressed back at his between smiles, her hands reaching out to roam his naked torso, her hips shifting as she rubbed a thigh against his hip.

"Mmm," she bit her lip on another grin as he kissed her chin, one hand scrubbing through his hair as she slowly tugged him more on top of her. "You are really, really, _really_ good at that, Tommy Merlyn.”

He laughed; she always broke out the last name when she was especially pleased with him. “Yes,” he chuckled against her throat, pausing to suck at her pulse. “I really, _really_ am.”

She hummed again, shifting to fit beneath him, her thighs and hips cradling him close. “Wanna show me what else you’re good at?”

He nipped gently at the upper swell of her breast. “Yes, ma’am.”


	9. A Farewell On Her Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver knows exactly what this is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by anonymous, "goodbye kiss"

She didn’t say anything; nothing marked this time as obviously different from every other night Felicity shrugged into her light spring jacket, pulled on her purse, and powered down all non-vital systems.

Nothing except that this time, for the first time, Felicity stopped first in front of Oliver, stepping close until her nearness halted his fingers in restringing his bow, and he turned like a satellite to her, looking down the small handful of inches her heels left between them. She smiled at him, warm and oddly reassuring; full of fondness and an almost flirtatious quirk of humor.

He tilted his head, one eyebrow arched—and she lifted a hand, her palm rasping against his stubble as she cupped his jaw, fingers stroking at his cheek, then sliding back, beneath his ear, through the soft line of short hair at his nape, curling there, tugging.

He inhaled sharply, and she stood on her toes, her head lilting to one side as her parted mouth slid against his; a press and pull that tugged a line deep in his gut like a fish hook.

He wasn’t made of stone; he certainly didn’t stand there and give her no answer.

When she lowered back onto her soles, Oliver’s breath left him in a shuddering exhale, pulled like rope from his lungs, unfurling with the space between them. Her smile had softened at the edges, color in her cheeks—a wet shimmer in her eyes.

Oliver may not be the genius, but he wasn’t stupid; he knew a goodbye when he tasted one. Felicity’s lips dripped with it.


	10. Come Back to Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver can be very convincing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted on Tumblr by idristardis, "back of the neck"

Oliver found Felicity in the kitchen, perched on a barstool at the counter, his tee shirt swimming on her frame as she hunched over her tablet, glasses slipping down her nose as she typed at something with that familiar, intent look of concentration.

She was lost in the code, he knew; awash in ones and zeroes, protocols and queries.

He stood and watched her for as long as he could stand, blinking the sleep—and the lingering, unpleasant dreams—from his eyes and running them down the length of her smooth, bare legs, toes curling around the bar of the stool and tipped in bright teal.

His mouth curled lazily as he slowly traced his gaze back up, the muscles of his stomach clenching at the memory of those legs squeezing his waist earlier, her ankles hooked together in the small of his back.

He dragged his lower lip through his teeth, and wanted more.

"Felicity." He stepped out of the mouth of the hallway towards her, but she didn’t so much as twitch in his direction, fingers flying and mouth forming silent shapes.

He chuckled and shook his head, reaching out once he was in arm’s length and touching just the tips of his fingers to her spine. She jumped slightly as he flattened his palm on her back, rubbing circles as she turned to look at him over her shoulder in surprise. “Oliver. Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I just had a total breakthrough in my dreams, this code’s been buggy for weeks and I just—I need to… fix it..”

She was already turned back to her tablet by the time she trailed off, lips tugging down in a frown of concentration. Breathing a laugh, Oliver stepped up close behind her, settling his hands in the curve of her waist, sliding up, down.

"Felicity," he murmured, bending to nose her hair away from the back of her neck. He pressed a soft kiss to her nape. "Come back to bed."

"Just… give me five more minutes…" she muttered distractedly.

Undeterred, Oliver pressed his mouth to the back of her neck again, this kiss open-mouthed, wet, warm. The tip of his tongue tasted salt on her skin, teeth scraping bluntly over the bump of her vertebrae, raising gooseflesh.

Felicity’s fingers stilled and she inhaled sharply. Oliver smirked against her skin, trailing his mouth around to her pulse, nipping the skin, suckling to soothe as he slipped one hand around her stomach, fingers spreading wide, pressing _down_ …

Oliver mouthed at the hinge of her jaw, breathed against her ear, “Come to bed.”

She set the tablet down—fingers shaking just slightly as his worked lazily, teasingly between her legs—and nodded.


	11. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity wants to linger here, but doesn't believe she can; Tommy thinks otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anonymous on Tumblr, "small of the back"

Felicity lay on her stomach, the navy sheet pooled at her waist as she propped her weight on her elbows, lit in contrasts of warm yellow and cool blue by the bedside lamp and the tablet in her hands.

Her fingers idly scrolled and tapped, soft clicks a counterpoint to Tommy’s even breathing. He curled on his side next to her, head falling just shy of the pillows, dark hair crossing his brow to mingle with the deep shadows painting under his brows and the cut of his cheekbones.

Felicity paused in her coding to look at him, her lip caught between her teeth, mouth fighting the curve of a soft, wondering smile.

Was it possible to burrow a home into bedsheets and the frame of someone else’s bones?

Something lonely and longing in her hitched like crying and wanted desperately to try.

Blowing out her breath in a long shuddering exhale, she shook her head at herself and turned back to building her program, _knowing_ she should leave, should slide out from under the covers and into her clothes and out the door.

But she wanted to _stay_. She wanted to linger in this bed, warmed by Tommy’s skin and the comfort they’d found in each other. She wanted to lie naked and work like she had a right to take this time for granted.

Just a little longer.

Time ticked by and her virtual keyboard clicked along with it, drawing in her focus, whispering away her wistful aching with cool logic and honest command and return.

She should have noticed the change in his breathing, the shift of the mattress and rustle of the sheets. But it wasn’t until gentle fingertips traced a line like a sigh down the dip of her spine that her hand stilled over the screen.

Her lashes fluttered closed as Tommy reached the border of her skin and the sheet, two points of fine contact slipping up her back to draw circles and spirals between her shoulder blades, her whole concentration burning under his fingers.

Tongue wetting her lips, Felicity swallowed and exhaled, “I should…”

"Stay," Tommy denied, palm flattening on her back and smoothing down, down, pushing the sheet on her waist like a tide revealing the dimples of her ass. "You should stay."

He shifted closer, bending over her. His breath feathered against her skin, something fluttering to answer in her chest, and his lips pressed to the small of her back, soft, lingering.

Like all the time in the world was theirs, if they just took it.

He kissed her back again, trailing his lips and the tip of his nose up the valley of her spine as his hand moved in the other direction, dipping beneath the sheet and contouring to her body’s curves and lines.

Felicity’s breath caught hard, lips tucking between her teeth and eyes squeezing shut as she blindly set the tablet aside on the nightstand. The tip of Tommy’s tongue circled a freckle on her shoulder and she swallowed a small, needy sound deep in her throat. Her head bowed forward, hips shifting as he stroked and kissed her.

She twisted her fingers around the edge of the pillow, mouth falling open and his name falling out. “Tommy. I… ah, I—”

She whimpered as his hand withdrew, only to grip her hip and guide her to roll onto her back. He fitted a leg between hers, setting his fingers right back to work as his other hand cupped her face, lips a hot, wet seal over hers.

Felicity slipped her arms around his ribs, fingers digging into his back as her spine arched for him, breaking from his mouth with a sigh. He pressed another kiss to her chin, behind the hinge of her jaw, to the tip of her nose.

"Felicity," his hand stilled between her thighs, and she opened her eyes to find his so close, dark and full of quiet, patient things. "Stay with me?"

Slowly, slowly she let herself smile, nodding. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

He chuckled, a soft rumble against her chest as a grin spread over his face. “Careful. Promise things like that, and I’ll keep you forever.”

She bit her lip against the words that wanted out—that wanted to cheapen the moment, so its loss would mean less later—and kissed him instead.


	12. It'll Last longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy, Felicity, and Oliver hit the mall photobooth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Fic Zorro on Tumblr, "Smoaking Billionaires sandwich kiss."
> 
> In case you all here are not aware, I kind of have a huge and absurd Tommy/Felicity/Oliver high school AU plotted out on my Tumblr. (absentlyabbie.tumblr.com/tagged/brot3-hs-au) This seemed as good an introduction as any.

They must have planned it, of course.

But at the time, all Felicity knew was that the mall photobooth was awfully crowded for three, and they spent more time jostling elbows and untangling legs than they did posing for pictures.

In the end, she ended up perched on both Tommy’s and Oliver’s laps, the two of them pressed together from hip to knee so she sat on Tommy’s left leg and Oliver’s right.

She smoothed her skirt over her lap, to make sure everything was covered properly after all the jockeying for position. Tommy leaned around her to feed bills into the machine, and when Felicity glanced at Oliver, he was watching her hands on her skirt with interest. He glanced up and waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Okay, get ready!" Tommy sat back and wiggled to get his shoulder and arm behind Felicity’s back, reaching out to drape his hand on Oliver’s shoulder, who quickly did the same as the screen under the camera counted down to the flash.

Oliver counted aloud when it reached three, “Three, two, one, _cheese_!”

Felicity beamed at the camera for the first flash, and then Tommy called for goofy faces. She sucked her cheeks in and crossed her eyes, while Oliver’s free hand pushed up his nose into a snout with his thumb, teeth bared in a grimace, and Tommy exaggerated a modelesque smolder.

For the next photo flashes they vogued and pulled overly somber faces, but for the last one—

without words, as if on cue, Tommy and Oliver each turned to Felicity and leaned in, pressing their mouths to either cheek, catching her by surprise so the flash caught her wide-eyed, mouth open in a startled laugh.

They paid for three strips of photos, and they each tucked them at home in some secret, treasured place.

Sometimes, after hard days at school or nights when the boys were busy, or had other plans—or if she was just lying in her dorm room bed at night and missing them, missing Tommy’s sprawling California King mattress and high threadcount sheets and one body spooning at her back and the other cuddled half underneath her—Felicity would pull out her photostrip.

And though she loved them all, something about the last one, with her face sandwiched between Tommy’s and Oliver’s lips, made her linger, smiling and tracing their faces, some nameless emotion swelling in her chest.


	13. Follow My Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Felicity run into a little trouble on a job, but Felicity improvises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by shipreally on Tumblr. "Acting (but NOT acting)"

"Shit," Tommy clenched his hands at chest height, glaring at the fire access door that was _supposed_ to be disarmed. The steadily blinking little red light on the wiring box above the door was a giant wrench in the works of the night’s plan—or a huge raised middle finger from the universe, depending on your preferred metaphor.

"What’s happening, Tommy?" Felicity’s voice sounded in his ear, sharp and attentive. "I’m almost to you, is the hall clear?"

"Yeah," Tommy drawled in frustration. "Hall’s clear as a fucking crystal, but our damn intel’s wrong, or some enterprising soul caught our loophole and closed it. Fuck of a time for grunt staff to be efficient."

Felicity snorted softly; his increased swearing in moments of high tension never failed to amuse her. “Whatever it is, I’m right around the corner; we’ll deal with it.”

Tommy stepped back and bracketed his hands on his hips, suit jacket flaring as he clenched his jaw and tried to stare the door into conforming to the needs of their plan. Seconds later, the sharp sound of high heels on the polished floor brought his head around to see Felicity striding towards him, her loosely pinned curls bouncing as she glanced over her shoulder.

She drew even with him, brows raised and soft pink lips pursed. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Tommy ran his eyes over her empire-waist, deep purple, knee-length dress in absentminded appreciation as one hand dragged aggravatedly over his hair. “The damn door alarm is live, and security on this event is too fucking tight; we set off the alarm and they’re gonna come running in seconds. Our window on this hallway being clear of personnel is already closing.” He lifted his eyes back to Felicity’s, his own brows hiking with his tension. “Can you screw with the wiring or something?”

Felicity turned her attention to the door, frowning slightly as she tilted her back to take in the alarm’s wiring running up beside the frame and into the ceiling. “Could I? Yeah, but we don’t really have time for that.”

"Shit." Tommy’s lips twitched in a near snarl; this was their best opportunity to get the information they needed. They wouldn’t have a chance like this for probably months. And worse, Oliver was _never_ going to let him out in the field alone more if he screwed this particular pooch.

Felicity shot him a glance rife with, he felt, entirely unwarranted amusement. “Relax, Tommy, we can salvage this, it’s just gonna make the end-run a little tight on time.”

Tommy turned to her eagerly. “You have a plan?”

She bit her lip and glanced down the hallway again. “I do, but it’s a little, uh, dramatic. Just… follow my lead?”

Mild concern bubbling in his gut, his brows drew slowly together. “Okaaay, just… whatever you need, I’m good. Let’s get what we came for.”

Surprisingly, her cheeks flushed slightly and she stepped closer to him, one hand rising and, after a brief hesitation, landing on his tie. “Um. I apologize for this in advance.”

"Wha—" Tommy’s confused question cut off as Felicity’s hand twisted around his tie, her other hand landing on his shoulder and shoving him so he turned and hit the door with the release bar digging into the small of his back. " _Felicity_ —”

She tugged sharply on his tie and lifted onto her toes, pressing full length against his body as her mouth crashed over his.

Tommy gasped under her lips, but she slid her hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck, keeping him firmly in place as she slanted their mouths more firmly together, pulling back with a wet smack just enough to hiss, “ _Follow my lead_.”

"Ah, hell," Tommy breathed back, then did as directed—with enthusiasm.

His hands circled Felicity’s waist, pressing her more solidly into his body as he opened his mouth against hers, fingers clenching on the silky fabric of her dress as she sucked on his lower lip.

Her nails scratched bluntly against his scalp, and act or no act, the groan in Tommy’s throat as Felicity deepened the kiss was entirely real.

For a few seconds, Tommy forgot himself; he forgot the job, he forgot his anxiety, the hallway, and the problematic door at his back. He even forgot the faint, annoying beeping sounding overhead as the world narrowed down to the shift of Felicity’s thigh between his legs, the slope of her spine under his palm, and the hot, wet curl of her tongue around his.

"Hey!"

Felicity broke away from Tommy’s lips with a sharp gasp, and Tommy blinked rapidly, turning his head to see a security guard in a tailored suit coming towards them down the hall, his expression disgruntled, but unsuspicious.

"You two need to not do that here, you’re setting off the door alarm." The guard stopped some five feet away, head shaking and hands on his hips—but not reaching to unholster his taser.

"Oh my god," Felicity moaned theatrically, burying her face against Tommy’s chest as if embarrassed.

Tommy curved an arm around her back protectively, straightening so his back no longer touched the door—but discreetly keeping it just barely from closing with the elbow on the far side of his body.

Clearing his throat, he nodded at the guard. “Uh, we’re, um, we’re really sorry, sir.” He grinned bashfully, feeling warmth flood his cheeks that was convenient, if not faked. “We got a little… carried away.”

The guard rolled his eyes. “You should consider _carrying that away_ somewhere else.”

Felicity tucked her shoulder into Tommy’s chest, giving the guard her back as she prodded Tommy’s ribs gently with a finger. Catching on, he flushed further and grinned more broadly. “Yeah, sure, absolutely. But, um. Could you, uh… give us a second?”

The other man stared at him drolly.

Tommy’s brows raised, head canting towards Felicity as he grimaced dramatically. “To… straighten things back to decency?”

The guard’s expression turned pitying and faintly disapproving. “Really, man? In a _hallway_?”

Tommy’s lips flattened in contrition. “Not my brightest idea, I will admit. Please, let my girlfriend, er, tidy up and we’ll be out of here.”

The guard shook his head again, but shifted his foot as if to turn away. “You two got five minutes. When I come back by here, you better be gone.” He jabbed two fingers at Tommy, brows high. “And kid? Next time, treat the lady right. Candlelight. Flowers. _Privacy_.”

Swallowing a slightly hysterical giggle, Tommy tucked his chin in a stiff nod. “Absolutely, will do. Thank you, sir.”

The guard shook his head one more time, turned around, and left with a faintly disgusted mutter of, “Damn horny rich kids.”

When the man turned the corner, Tommy held Felicity tightly for a count of fifteen seconds before releasing her with a gusty exhale. “Holy _shit_ , I can’t believe that worked.”

Felicity stepped back from him, fanning flushed cheeks and a stunned, silly smile. “Me either, actually. But hey, it’s worked on TV!”

Tommy stared at her, heat flashing through him at the vivid, fresh memory of her breasts crushed against his chest and her teeth scraping over his lip. “You’re out of your mind, Smoak, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the way you improvise.”

She shot him a bashful, slightly mischievous smile. “Just don’t tell Oliver. You’re not the only one he’d bench permanently over this little escapade.” Straightening the straps of her dress, she nodded at the door. “Now, let’s get on with the job before that guard has time to reset the alarm and get back here. Exit strategy B should still be viable.”

Chuckling, Tommy checked both ways down the hall and gently eased the door open, gesturing ahead of him for her to enter the stairwell. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to those who recognize the homage in this chapter. ;)


End file.
